For anyone who remembers the video to Kate Bush's 1985 hit 'Running up that Hill' -- in which Kate and her non-descript himbo use interpretative dance to convey the all-important issue of, err... running up hills -- Prospero's Books should offer a warm feeling of recognition, as it gives the audience that very same concept stretched out over two very long hours.
With this film, director Greenaway attempts to mix Shakespearean theatre with the style of the Hollywood epic. He fails. For me this film represents the old adage 'art for art's sake', no matter how much poor Pete waffles on about films not having to conform to story telling, he fails to pick up on the fact that a film without a story is nothing more than a string of interesting images tied together for no apparent reason. Does this make Greenaway any different from MTV hacks like David Fincher or Bret Ratner? It's questionable, however I for one believe that art films did more when they concentrated on the kind of stories and ideas that mainstream cinema was too afraid to pick up on. Compare Prospero's Books to any of Bergman's masterpieces and the cracks in Greenaway's theories begin to appear. Bergman managed to mix highly intelligent story structures with personal and expressionistic ideas, still offering us hauntingly beautiful images of ethereal grandeur. What does Greenaway give us? Naked cherubs pi*sing on each other... Bravo!
However, to write off Prospero's Books as a complete failure is unfair. It does have enough going for it to warrant attention from the more curious of cinema fans. Gorgeous photography, interesting set designs and a wonderful Michael Nyman score all add to the dramatic atmosphere and enjoyment of the film. Nyman and cinematographer Sacha Vierny -- both of whom contributed to Greenaway's most well know film, The Cock, The Thief, His Wife and Her Puppies -- are the true stars here. Nyman's score lifts the film to new heights, as he manages to wring feelings of true excitement from the most mundane of images -- fat men dancing naked in a footbath is one recurring motif -- whilst Vierny photographs the picture as if it were the work of Rembrandt or Michelangelo. If the film fails in any department, it's mainly down to Greenwaway's reluctance to give the audience anything to connect with. Characters drift in and out with little impact to the film, whilst great actors like the late sir John Gielgud and Bergman regular Erland Josephson are wasted in trivial performances. Greenaway is so obsessed with creating unique or shocking visuals that he often breaks the connection the audience is slowly establishing with the film, making it feel longer and more tiresome than it actually is.
This means that at a mighty 140 minutes or so, Prospero's Books becomes something of a chore to sit through. This is dull and un-involving cinema that should have been much, much more. The quality of the people Greenaway has working with him is astounding, but he fritters away any potential talent. I was so convinced I'd like Prospero's Books that after I saw it I felt slightly betrayed by my won sense of judgement. However I am a strong believer of always giving films a chance, and I suppose, no matter how dull I found Prospero, I'm glad I made the effort... simply put, there are things in this film that need to be seen. The level of hard work that has been put into effect by the technicians and craftsmen is exquisite, and it is for this reason alone that I suggest those who are interested in art cinema should give it a try. For anyone who likes a story to their films... or for those who are easily offended by 'excessive' nudity, then you might want to give the film a miss, because you certainly wont enjoy it. 2/5
With this film, director Greenaway attempts to mix Shakespearean theatre with the style of the Hollywood epic. He fails. For me this film represents the old adage 'art for art's sake', no matter how much poor Pete waffles on about films not having to conform to story telling, he fails to pick up on the fact that a film without a story is nothing more than a string of interesting images tied together for no apparent reason. Does this make Greenaway any different from MTV hacks like David Fincher or Bret Ratner? It's questionable, however I for one believe that art films did more when they concentrated on the kind of stories and ideas that mainstream cinema was too afraid to pick up on. Compare Prospero's Books to any of Bergman's masterpieces and the cracks in Greenaway's theories begin to appear. Bergman managed to mix highly intelligent story structures with personal and expressionistic ideas, still offering us hauntingly beautiful images of ethereal grandeur. What does Greenaway give us? Naked cherubs pi*sing on each other... Bravo!
However, to write off Prospero's Books as a complete failure is unfair. It does have enough going for it to warrant attention from the more curious of cinema fans. Gorgeous photography, interesting set designs and a wonderful Michael Nyman score all add to the dramatic atmosphere and enjoyment of the film. Nyman and cinematographer Sacha Vierny -- both of whom contributed to Greenaway's most well know film, The Cock, The Thief, His Wife and Her Puppies -- are the true stars here. Nyman's score lifts the film to new heights, as he manages to wring feelings of true excitement from the most mundane of images -- fat men dancing naked in a footbath is one recurring motif -- whilst Vierny photographs the picture as if it were the work of Rembrandt or Michelangelo. If the film fails in any department, it's mainly down to Greenwaway's reluctance to give the audience anything to connect with. Characters drift in and out with little impact to the film, whilst great actors like the late sir John Gielgud and Bergman regular Erland Josephson are wasted in trivial performances. Greenaway is so obsessed with creating unique or shocking visuals that he often breaks the connection the audience is slowly establishing with the film, making it feel longer and more tiresome than it actually is.
This means that at a mighty 140 minutes or so, Prospero's Books becomes something of a chore to sit through. This is dull and un-involving cinema that should have been much, much more. The quality of the people Greenaway has working with him is astounding, but he fritters away any potential talent. I was so convinced I'd like Prospero's Books that after I saw it I felt slightly betrayed by my won sense of judgement. However I am a strong believer of always giving films a chance, and I suppose, no matter how dull I found Prospero, I'm glad I made the effort... simply put, there are things in this film that need to be seen. The level of hard work that has been put into effect by the technicians and craftsmen is exquisite, and it is for this reason alone that I suggest those who are interested in art cinema should give it a try. For anyone who likes a story to their films... or for those who are easily offended by 'excessive' nudity, then you might want to give the film a miss, because you certainly wont enjoy it. 2/5